


let your heart be light

by only_because3



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: Kara stands in the entryway of Lena’s apartment, eyes darting all over the open space while she unwraps her scarf from around her neck. “You don’t have a tree,” she asks. She tries to keep her voice in check but judging from Lena’s small laugh, she did not succeed.





	let your heart be light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedisassociation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisassociation/gifts).



> Written for Thedisassociation for the secret Santa exchange. I had a BLAST writing this which is why it’s so long. I took one look at these prompts and immediately yelled at my wife that I got prompts made for me. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Happy Holidays everyone!

Kara’s foot taps rhythmically against her chair, the tune stuck in her head not quite coming across as well as she’d hope. In fact, Snapper tells her to knock off the racket. How he hears her from across the bullpen, she has no idea but Kara pointedly keeps tapping along the song as she types up her current article, determined to not let Snapper’s grinchiness get to her.

It’s probably not grinchiness actually, considering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ likely isn’t being derived from her tapping, but Kara is fairly certain Snapper hates happiness, so she chalks it up to him being an Ebenezer anyway.

Her phone vibrates in place on her desk and when she looks, she finds she’s been added to a group chat with Eliza and Alex. She drags her finger across the screen and realizes she’s been so enthralled in the Christmas concert in her head that she missed the first few texts. She swipes up then works her way down.

 **Eliza** : _Should we remain bad Jews and celebrate all 8 days of Hanukkah on Christmas or can I expect to see you two for at least the first or last night?_

 **Alex** : _Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to come here since there are two of us in National City?_

 **Eliza** : _Are you inviting me to stay for nearly two weeks in your home?_

 **Alex** : _That is not at all what that text said._

Kara grins, chest warm with laughter. She digs her tattered excuse for a planner out of the bag at her feet, flips it open to December. She has a meeting on the first day of Hanukkah which means a trip to Midvale completely out of the question since Alex hates flying with her. The last day is the 20th which would fit well with Christmas and would give Alex a much shorter time to deal with Eliza…

 **Kara** : _Why don’t you come down on the 20th? We can make use of the last day and then you can stay through Christmas!_

A banner appears at the top of her screen, this time an alert from Lena.

 **Lena** : _You like kids right?_

Kara’s eyebrows furrow behind her glasses, the soundtrack in her head (which had switched to ‘The Dreidel Song’) pausing in her surprise at the question.

 **Kara** : _Yes??? I don’t interact with them much but I don’t dislike them._

Three dots appear for a moment before they disappear, her text left on read. Kara waits a minute or so before deciding Lena likely got caught up in work and refocuses instead on her own article. She only gets another short paragraph out before Alex and Eliza are texting her that it sounds like a good plan (Alex messaging her a second time in their own private chat that Eliza better be spending part of her visit at Kara’s) and then her phone is vibrating continuously, Lena’s name at the top of the screen.

“I need your help,” Lena says in lieu of a greeting.

“Does this have to do with the aforementioned kids?”

“An old boarding school friend is coming to visit in a week and she has children and, well, Christmas is this month.”

Kara laughs a little despite how unnerved Lena sounds. “What? Christmas in December? Never heard of that.”

Lena sighs which just makes Kara laugh more. “Sorry, the email from her was just, unexpected.” Kara catches her bottom lip to tamper down her smile, even though Lena can’t see her. “But I _should_ get her children presents right? Isn’t that something people do?”

Truthfully, Kara has no idea. Eliza and Jeremiah didn’t have a very many friends while she was with them, due in part to her, and she doesn’t count presents she always got from the Kent’s as gifts from friends but from extended family. But there is one thing she does remember always doing when she was with friends. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

—

Lena thinks that it probably would have been easier to just buy presents. Or, just, send Jess out to buy presents. Lena sighs. She wouldn’t have done that. Jess may be her assistant but she’s capable and smart and way above being sent out for such a menial errand. Besides, she considers Jess too much of a friend now to demean her with such a task, though she has no doubt Jess would do it without complaint.

She watches from the edge of Kara’s couch, wanting to help Kara but she’s frankly a little scared to.

Kara flitters around her small kitchen, grabbing ingredients from cabinets, pulling out a small arsenal of things from the fridge. Lena would sit closer too, take up residence on one of the bar stools positioned next to Kara’s island, but the island is responsible for the mountain of ingredients and, oh, Kara is now using the stools to hold a variety of baking pans and Knick knacks.

“Wouldn’t buying something just be easier,” Lena asks from her perch and Kara stops her mousing around and her humming (‘Up On the Rooftop’ if Lena’s ears don’t deceive her) to look at Lena with her smile pulling into a small frown.

“That would totally be easier,” Kara agrees, fingers hooking some stray hair behind her ears. “But what’s the fun in that?” Kara’s smile comes back, teeth poking out and her eyes sparkle behind her glasses. “Plus, if you _buy_ cookies, you don’t get to lick bowls clean!”

Lena straightens. “We’re making cookies?

Kara’s eyebrows furrow but her smile stays stretching her cheeks. “What did you think I was doing?” Lena shrugs helplessly, lips parted to release a small huff. She clearly knew they were cooking _something_ but how was she supposed to know it was cookies? Lena tilts her head. She could have used context clues. Cookies do seem to be a Christmas thing, or at least that’s what she’s heard.

Kara laughs a little, kind, and waves Lena over to join her in the kitchen. Lena leaves her shoes on the carpet and pads over, hands nervous at her sides as she surveys everything. Kara’s separating things between the island and the counter behind her. She thinks it’s for different recipes but Lena couldn’t swear to it. It’s not as if she’s never made cookies before. Not ones that didn’t come from a package anyway. Kara lets out a breath once all is said and done. “Okay, we’re going to make two batches, one for each of us, but we’re not going to double the recipe.”

“Because that’s also too easy,” Lena asks, cheeky and with an arched brow.

Kara playfully rolls her eyes, hands on hips. “No, because it’s actually difficult for me.” She doesn’t elaborate, just claps and centers her feet. “First, clean hands.” She urges Lena to the sink but doesn’t follow, instead clicking her tongue and turning to get something else. Lena just focuses on washing her hands, is turning the faucet off when Kara’s arms circle her waist.

Lena jerks straight, even as her head looks down to see what it is Kara is doing. She’s met with the sight of a garish red and green apron, Kara’s hands retreating only to settle at her back, fingers undoubtedly tying the strings into a bow. “Don’t want you getting dirty,” Kara murmurs. She comes up next to Lena then, hip checks her playfully before washing her hands too and using her own holiday apron to dry them. “Ready?”

She’s not but Kara is looking at her so earnestly, so excitedly, that Lena nods despite her reservations. Kara smiles wider and moves to the island, two bowls set beside eachother. “Were you joking,” Lena asks. “About doubling the recipe being hard?”

Kara is looking over a recipe card as she shakes her head. “Nope. The cookies just never turn out right no matter what I do. Unless I just make two batches.” Kara shrugs, sets the recipe up on a canister so that they can both see it. “Baking is the most fickle of sciences.”

Lena lets out a small huff of laughter. “I’m not sure baking is considered a true science, Kara.”

“Are you saying that only because you can’t do it,” Kara counters and Lena turns with wide eyes to find Kara’s smile has taken on a teasing gleam. Before Lena can dignify Kara’s remark with one of her own, Kara’s holding out the handle of a red and silver sifter. “First, we’ll sift all the dry ingredients together.” Lena holds the sifter steady, grip tightening when Kara pours two carefully measured cups of flour into it. “You know, I never used to do this part.”

Lena starts tapping the rim of the sifter with her palm, watching as the flour falls so gracefully to the bottom of the bowl. “No?”

Kara shakes her head, tosses in the baking powder and salt atop the flour. “I didn’t think there was a point to it, but it does actually help the dough.” Kara pushes her glasses up her nose and then she makes quick work of her own dry ingredients. “Figured I’d teach you the proper way,” Kara adds, cheeky but genuine. “You really never did this as a kid?”

“I think I might have with my birth mother,” Lena says, even though it feels like a lie. Her memories with her mom are hazy at best and she suspects that most are the wishes of a lonely child rather than something real. “I remember _eating_ sugar cookies at the annual Luthor Christmas party… until puberty hit anyway.”

“And why’s that,” Kara asks so innocently that Lena thinks of lying, if only to not have Kara upset over her.

“Well,” Lena starts, watching as the last bits of ingredients snow down into the bowl. “The Luthor’s couldn't have a fat daughter.”

It’s endearing, how Kara only sucks in a deep breath through her nose and taps her own sifter harder in response. “We’re just going to eat my dough, okay,” Kara says. She grabs both bowls and takes them to the counter behind them, gently shoving ingredients out of the way so she can put them down.

“Kara, it’s okay-“

“No, it’s not,” Kara huffs out and Lena watches Kara’s shoulders tense, her hands balling up into fists on the countertop. “Parents shouldn’t- It-“ Lena places a hand on Kara’s back, light and gentle and she feels Kara take another breath before her shoulders slump. “We need Christmas music,” Kara says, giving Lena a small nod that she returns.

“Though I’m not sure we need more,” Lena says. “You’ve been going about beautifully.” Kara passes by with a confused look on her face and Lena blushes a little as Kara turns the radio on above the fridge. “Your singing,” she clarifies. “Well, it was humming mostly, but you kept slipping into singing too.”

Kara’s own cheeks flush. “I can’t help it. This entire season just…” Kara’s smile grows impossibly wider, eyes slight beneath her glasses. “I love it.”

There’s such a purity to Kara’s expression that it wraps around Lena almost uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with such a _good_ feeling. Lena settles on ducking her head, toying with the rim of her bowl as she bites her lip.

‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ fills the kitchen and Kara’s hips wiggle along to the music, though it seems Kara’s oblivious to her little dance, her friend just plucking up the recipe and stating that they need the empty bowls for this part.

The dough comes together without much effort, the prospect of baking not as overwhelming as Lena had originally thought. It is much like a science, she notices as they continue on, with each part needing to be measured precisely. The stakes aren’t as high as they would be if Lena were piecing together a device, but the familiarity of it puts Lena at ease. Kara probably helps in that department too.

Kara sprinkles some flour on the island top, rubs it around so that there’s ample working space. “I think you can do this part without my instruction,” Kara says, holding out what Lena thinks is supposed to be a rolling pin but looks to be little more than a thick piece of doweling. “Oh, wait.” Kara jerks back the wood, coats it with a layer of flour. “Don’t want it sticking to the pin!”

With that, Kara’s off to tend to her own dough on the counter behind her, no longer insistent that they just eat up the dough instead of baking it, and Lena looks over her shoulder to find Kara flouring a wine bottle. “What on earth are you doing,” she asks before she can help herself.

Simply, Kara says, “I only have one rolling pin,” shoulders shrugging as if that should’ve been Lena’s first thought.

“Silly me,” Lena responds dryly and Kara sticks her tongue out at her before turning her attention to her dough. Lena watches, a little mesmerized at the sight of Kara rolling out her dough. She does it so easily, arms rocking back and forth as Kara makes quick work of the dough, the muscles rippling under the skin of her back. Lena lets out a breath, brings herself back to the task at hand.

The dough is soft, following her strokes with an ease she wasn’t expecting. What is difficult is getting this new flat dough even. Too distracted by Kara’s singing, Lena rolled her pin too many times in one direction, leaving the right corner closest to her too thin, the top left now too thick. She lets the wood roll smoothly under her palms in the opposite direction until it’s mostly even. Surely the children won’t care, right?

Kara’s at her side suddenly, hand in front of Lena’s mouth, a bit of dough an offering between her fingers. “It’s amazing, if I do say so myself,” Kara says around her own piece of leftover dough. Lena looks at Kara out of the corner of her eye, opens her mouth, in reality to ask Kara how on earth she finished her dough so fast (Lena knows Kara didn’t use her powers, the movement behind her was too steady). But then Kara’s tipping the morsel between her lips, and the flavor, a burst of lemon and butter and sugar, hits her tongue as Kara’s fingers brush along her bottom lip on their retreat. It sends a chill through her, hands stuttering in their rolling. Kara doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t tune into the way her heart stutters in her chest, because she flits back to her side of the kitchen, grabbing her filled baking sheet and sliding it in the oven as she sings along to the radio.

The dough _is_ amazing and Lena swears that’s the only reason she licks her lips after she’s swallowed.

Kara’s across from her now, setting a timer on her phone and Lena finds herself giving up on making sure the dough is evenly spread out. “So, I hope you won’t be mad,” Kara starts. She’s pulling the rolling pin out from under Lena’s hands, smoothing out the dough that Lena’s left a little thicker than the rest. “But I already made up the frosting for you.”

“Worried I’d tarnish your recipe,” Lena quips, smile curving into a smirk as Kara sputters through her denial.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Kara says, toying with the cookie cutters she set out. “You’ve never made cookies from scratch before so I thought it was better to ease you in.” Lena plucks up a star and presses it into the dough. She goes to pull it back but Kara pushes it back down, gives it a little wiggle. “Have to make sure it pulls away really well.”

Lena hums. “Do I get to try some of this frosting at least before I tell children to go at it?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Of course.” The timer goes off and Kara goes to switch out the pans in the oven. “You have to decorate at least one of my cookies. You _will_ have to show the kids how.”

“It’s not the decorating part I was clueless about, Kara.” She lifts her leg, gives Kara’s calf a little kick. Her friend just laughs and then Kara bumps their butts together, knocks her into the island and makes Lena stretch the dough around the cutter. “Careful, or I’ll make an absolute mess of these cookies,” Lena warns.

A gust of air hits the back of her legs as Kara closes the oven. “Impossible. You can’t mess up my cookies,” she says and Lena hears Kara sliding the parchment paper off the tray. Kara comes up next to her, fresh cookie in her hand. Lena watches in fascination as Kara blows on it, breath coming out somewhere near icy. She thinks she even sees a snowflake, but that would be ridiculous right?

Kara licks her lips and the blue hue in her lips is gone, their usual pinkness returning. “Here.” She breaks off the top of the Christmas tree and this time, Lena accepts it readily. It’s the perfect temperature, so soft after the initial snap. Kara had said before that it was important the cookies be strong enough to support the weight of the frosting and decorations. It already tastes so wonderful that Lena’s not sure it really needs frosting.

She’s not going to let Kara know that though.

—

It’s an absolute _travesty_.

Kara stands in the entryway of Lena’s apartment, eyes darting all over the open space while she unwraps her scarf from around her neck. “You don’t have a _tree_ ,” she asks. She tries to keep her voice in check but judging from Lena’s small laugh, she did not succeed. “Lena, you can’t have Christmas without a tree!” She wonders, briefly, what the children thought when they were here. Surely they had to be similarly shocked, right? The rest of the place is decorated nicely, some string lights along the mantel that’s littered with snow globes and ornate nutcrackers, some poinsettias on the end tables and even one on the bar. There’d been a wreath, too, on the door, so it’s nice to see that Lena isn’t completely devoid of Christmas cheer.

“I haven’t had the time,” Lena says, regretful. “You know how work is and I like picking them out myself.”

Lena helps Kara with her coat, slipping it from her arms and hanging it on the hook by the door, taking Kara’s scarf as well, just as she takes it off. “If you’d told me yesterday, I would have made time for us to go get one.” They could’ve been doing that instead of watching bad Christmas movies! “I demand we go after lunch.”

Shaking her head, Lena walks back to the sink where Kara assumes she was before answering the door and Kara follows her naturally. The sink is half full with frosting bowls and butter knives, some frosting globs adorned with sprinkles from the jars Kara sent Lena with yesterday. “We’ll see,” is all Lena says and Kara knows by now what that means. It means that, as always, there is work to be done but Lena is willing to entertain the idea of putting it off just a little while longer.

So Kara grins and pushes her glasses higher up on her nose as she turns to look at the table. It doesn’t look at all like her table does after decorating cookies with Alex and Eliza. Kara knows she can be messy when it comes to baking but she thought children at least would be worse than her.

Lena’s chuckle pulls her attention away from the table. “I laid out disposable tablecloths on the table _and_ the floor.” Kara arches a brow and Lena follows suit as she continues rinsing out the dishes in the sink. “Made for an easy clean up.”

“Color me impressed,” Kara says. She leans over the counter with wide eyes. A bowl of uncolored frosting sits beside the sink and Kara goes to swipe a finger through it when Lena smacks her hand away. “Hey! That’s wasteful!”

“No,” Lena says as she fills the bowl with water, looking completely unaffected by Kara’s outraged pout. “This frosting caught two _very_ wet sneezes earlier.” Kara’s nose wrinkles. That is disgusting but she is still sad that she’s frostingless. “Besides, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

Kara rolls her eyes but Lena gives her a pointed look. The seriousness of her stare is undermined by the tilt to her lips and the gleam in her eyes. It makes Kara smile despite herself and she rounds the corner to nestle into Lena’s space. She takes the already rinsed off dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, tries not to notice the way Lena’s heart beats a little faster, tries not to smile a little wider. “Did you decide where you want to eat,” Kara asks as she takes the last bowl and puts it on the top rack before closing the dishwasher.

“I told you, I can find something anywhere you want to go, even if it is back to that taco truck you took me to by the docks,” Lena says after a breath, scooting over so Kara can wash her hands too.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t one of the best taquitos you’ve ever had,” Kara says. She will defend that truck to the death, even if it has given some of her more human friends several cases of food poisoning. Present company, unfortunately, not excluded.

Lena flicks water into Kara’s face. “It wasn’t too great on the way back up.”

Kara huffs and steals the towel from Lena’s hands after she shuts off the faucet. “You know, you can tell me places you don’t want to go.”

Lena slips Kara’s glasses off, uses the hem of her shirt to wipe clean the lenses as if she wasn’t the one to get them dirty. There’s a part of Kara that still seizes up when she loses the security of her glasses in front of Lena, her coming out still too fresh. It’s been well over a month but getting used to being so completely open with Lena has been a little intimidating. Not that Lena is intimidating. Kara just worries that, with her biggest guard down, everything else will just keep spilling out.

“Kara,” Lena begins, quite seriously, as she inspects the lenses in the light. A small nod and then Lena is sliding the frames over her ears, hands curling to cradle her cheeks. Lena’s stare is so intense for the subject matter that Kara almost wants to laugh. She bites her bottom lip instead, lips pursing so that her smile can’t grow. Lena’s eyes flick down to them for only a second before holding her gaze again. “I never want to see that taco truck again.”

Kara nods, brings two fingers up in a salute before she lets her hand catch Lena’s wrist. “I have just the place we can go to today, but it _is_ from another truck.”

Sighing, Lena pats her cheek. “You know, some places have these things called chairs and tables you can use to help you eat.”

“I promise there will be chairs and tables near this truck,” Kara says and squeezes Lena’s wrist lightly.

Lena lets her hands fall, looks passed Kara to get the time. “I _have_ to get to work by three,” Lena says like it’s some kind of warning.

Kara promises that they’ll be back to the apartment by three as she helps Lena into her own coat. She can at least promise that much. If Lena decides once they’re _back_ , however, to not start working, that’s on Lena, not her.

—

The truck Kara takes her to is nice, one of the trendy ones that seem to be popping up all over the place lately. Frankly, Lena’s tired of this food truck fad that most people her age are enamoured with, but it seems that Kara loves anything that comes off a cart, and as she looks at the food customers are carrying away, the food doesn’t look like it’s swimming in grease. It’s probably a safe bet.

Kara orders for them, a roasted (“And loaded,” Kara is sure to add to the woman at the window) turkey sandwich with a side walnut cranberry salad, and then she’s guiding them to a picnic table. “I have to say,” Lena says once they sit down, old wood creaking under their weight. “It’s smart of them to set up shop at a park.”

Kara hums as she takes a sip from her water. “I have to admit, I only brought you here because of what’s two blocks down the street,” Kara says, not looking the least bit sheepish. “Not that this truck isn’t great,” she adds. “But it’s the best place near Mickey’s tree lot.”

“Tree lot,” Lena repeats, eyebrows raising. “Kara, I told you I have to work!”

“And you will totally get to your work,” Kara assures her, face feigning innocence. Lena would almost believe her too, if not for the way she adjusts her glasses and then immediately brings her hair over her shoulder, fingers twisting the ends. “After a tree is placed in your apartment.”

She doesn’t hear it but Kara perks up and Lena knows their name must have been called for the food. Kara gives Lena an excited smile as she pushes up, a skip in her step as she goes to grab their order. Lena finds herself sighing, elbows coming to rest on the table, head finding purchase on her hand. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have found time to find a tree if Kara hadn’t sprung this on her. It’s already well into December and she’s not even sure she has ornaments anymore. If she does, they’re probably still in Metropolis. She hadn’t found time last year either to get a tree.

Lena doesn’t want to let Kara know that, though, and so she will gamely get the tree, promise Kara she’ll decorate it _after_ she does some work, leaving Kara none the wiser that it will sit bare for at least a week.

Kara returns, heavenly smelling food in her hands, and it amazes Lena just how decadent it tastes once they’ve split the sandwich in half. It’s messy but worth it. There’s graving running down her palm and bits of mashed potatoes on her fingers, so much tender turkey piled between the bread that tastes more like dinner rolls than anything. Though she’s not surprised Kara barely bats an eye at the salad, Lena finds herself much too enamored with the sandwich to take more than a curiousery bite of it.

She smiles, shy behind her sandwich, when she realizes that she and Kara have had the same idea. They’re both picking the cranberries out of the salad to add to their sandwiches.

Ever prepared, Kara produces some wipes from her bag once they’re finished, and once they’ve cleaned themselves up, Kara loops her arm through Lena’s, guiding them down the street until they reach Mickey’s Tree Emporium. Quite the name for a tiny chain link fence lot, Lena thinks, but Kara’s looking at it like they’ve gone to a place they can actually cut down their own tree, so it surely must be something special.

“What kind do you like,” Kara asks as they stand in the entrance. “Tall and lean? Short and fluffy? Something in the middle?” A family comes to pass and Lena tugs Kara closer so they can get out of the way. The little boy and girl, twins, Lena thinks, are smiling wide, talking excitedly about asking Santa for the chance to meet Supergirl. When Lena looks at Kara, she’s watching the kids fondly, blue eyes unbelievably soft and a pink hue to her cheeks that Lena wonders is from embarrassment, happiness, or both. The kids climb into their car as their parents load up the tree and Kara lets out a small sigh, shaking her head.

Kara clears her throat, looks back at Lena with a smile that’s different than the one she was wearing before. “I think you like the really full trees.”

Lena pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, chews on it for a moment. “Actually,” Lena starts and she tilts her chin towards the collection of trees at the back of the lot. “Ever since I’ve left home, I’ve gotten something like those ones.”

The smile shifts again when Kara looks back at the trees that are deemed bad ones. The ones that have grown too much on one side and not the other. The ones that have missing or broken branches, the ones that look too thin to bear the weight of much, the ones that are too stocky to be considered elegant enough. They are the exact opposite of the trees she had growing up and, frankly, they remind Lena too much of herself. It’s ridiculous, she knows, to find a reflection of herself in a plant, but she does all the same. She stuck out among her family the same way these trees stick out here.

Lena isn’t sure how to describe the look Kara gives her but it makes her swallow hard and there’s that annoying swoop in her belly again. She worries, not for the first time, that Kara is listening to the thumping of her heart.

“Lena Luthor,” Kara says, voice almost in a whisper. “You have got the biggest heart I know.” It’s the most ridiculous thing to say after telling someone their feelings towards Christmas trees but Lena’s heart stutters all the same, unmistakably loud to her own ears and she finds herself so overwhelmed by the purity of Kara’s words that she just laughs, tucks her chin towards her chest as she kicks at the gravel beneath her feet. Kara’s hand trails down Lena’s arm until it’s settled firmly against Lena’s own. Kara squeezes and Lena takes it for what it is, a silent request to meet Kara’s eyes. “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”

She can tell there’s more Kara wants to say, can see it in the way Kara’s lips stay parted for a moment longer, the way her eyes seem to dart all around Lena’s face.

But nothing else comes. Kara just gives Lena’s hand another tight squeeze, soft smile stretching her lips. It’s a move of mercy, Lena thinks. Kara knows well enough now how hard it is for her to hear something like that. It never stops Kara from saying it the moment the thought springs to the front of her mind, but Kara doesn’t linger on it unless she feels Lena needs to hear it.

Lena squeezes Kara’s hand right back and they walk, just like that, towards the back of the lot.

—

There’s a knock on her door earlier than she expected. Kara glances at the oven’s clock with a small frown. She’d hoped to get the bread done before Eliza and Alex arrived but they’ll have to settle for the cheese since they decided to be early. “Use your key,” she yells. She wants to remain focused on the braiding of her bread. She always seems to mess up when it comes to turning her loaves into a wreath shape and Kara is determined to get it right this year.

The knock comes again and Kara sighs. Evidentially, she is not meant to get this braiding right. Maybe it’s the sign that she should stop making challah on Hanukkah instead of Rosh Shashana.

She wipes her hands on her apron as she makes the short treck to the door and Kara is surprised to see Lena on the other side of the peephole. “Hey,” she says once the door is no longer separating them. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

Lena smiles and Kara can tell easily that it’s forced. There’s a barely there crease above Lena’s eyebrows and a hollowness to her eyes that has Kara aching to reach out. She shoves the hand not on the door in to her apron pocket. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Lena says, her voice lifting in question.

Kara shakes her head and opens the door wider. “Never,” she says honestly, and gives Lena a gentle, reassuring smile. “I was just getting some things ready for tonight.”

“Does tonight have something to do with your sweater?” Lena gestures to Kara’s chest and Kara finds herself puffing up just a little.

“Isn’t this great,” Kara asks as she smooths out the soft fabric. It’s a striped sweater she got years ago from a thrift store before she even moved to National City. Each stripe alternates between two shades of blue, the lighter one adorned with little white dreidels and the darker one with golden menorahs. Alex thinks it’s ridiculous that she wears it every year when they’re so lax about their Judaism and Eliza, at this point, just gives it a fond sort of smile.

Lena nods as she drops her purse next to the door. She brings a leg up and pulls off one of her boots. “I didn’t realize you were-“ Lena stops herself short, gives Kara a curious look over her shoulder. “Actually, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you celebrate earth holidays at all.”

Kara grabs Lena’s elbow when she wobbles on the heel of one boot, steadies her even when she switches feet. “Well, Jeremiah and Eliza celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah. Eliza’s Jewish but didn’t practice much once she moved out on her own. I think they only picked it up to show Alex, and later me, the variety of religions we could chose from.” Once Lena has two feet firmly on the ground, Kara loops her arm through Lena’s, trying to mind the fact that her apron is messy and Lena is still in her work clothes. “I’m mostly happy for excuses to get together with family though.” Lena nods but her smile, small as it is, remains tight and Kara notices a slight tremble to her lips. The urge to ask what is wrong sits on her tongue but there’s a tiredness to Lena that has Kara swallowing the words.

Reluctantly, Kara drops Lena's arm so that the other girl can slide onto the stool at the island. Lena still doesn’t quite meet her eyes, even as Kara steps around to get back to her bread. Lena pulls a few hidden bobby pins from her hair, drops them in her lap as she reaches up for the ornate clip keeping her bun in place. With her hair free, Lena runs her fingertips along her scalp, tries to fix her hair into something decent despite it wanting to retain the shape it’s held all day. Kara watches, her own hands toying gently with her dough, but she’s not even sure Lena notices, green gaze seemingly focused on the island though she asks no questions about what Kara’s doing.

Lena’s hands have moved to the wood of the island, making a trail in some of the excess flour and she can’t just watch anymore. Kara abandons her dough and gently reaches out, covering Lena’s hand with her own. Her hands still instantly and Kara can hear the way Lena’s breath catches in her throat. Lena doesn’t look up at her. She keeps looking at their hands, Kara’s cupping hers and her own curling around air, and Kara finds herself worrying for the first time in a long time that she’s read Lena wrong.

But then Lena’s turning her wrist and threading her fingers through Kara’s, the air pulling from her lungs so forcefully that it causes the flour to kick up. Her shoulders sag even more and Kara nearly hops the counter to get to Lena sooner, only for Lena to shake her head as she finally looks up. “Don’t,” Lena says, and there’s that smile that Kara hates. What had only been lingering in the shadows of her smile earlier is now plain to see and Kara aches to get closer. “I received a letter from Lex today… a Christmas card.”

“Oh, Lena.” Kara holds Lena’s hand tighter, as tight as she thinks Lena can handle. “Have you read it?” Lena nods this time and Kara chews on her own lip as she wonders where to go from here. She’s curious, of course, of what was said. If it had been more of Lex’s crazed madness, Kara doubts Lena would be this shaken up. Not that Lena isn’t always affected by her brother’s antics, but it’s not like this… Lena’s never sought Kara out before. “Can I hug you?”

It actually gets something close to a laugh out of Lena. “You can,” she says and Kara is sure to keep their hands linked as she shortens the distance between them. Kara debates briefly of letting go so she can wrap Lena in a full on bear hug but settles herself behind Lena, arms going around her waist and cheek resting on top of her head instead, hand still firmly holding Lena’s. “I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean to intrude.” Lena’s other hand comes up to grip Kara’s forearm and Kara relaxes when she feels Lena lean into her. “I just…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kara says. A staggering breath leaves Lena bowing in on herself and Kara does her best to remind Lena that she is there, will continue to be the supportive presence for as long as Lena may need, while she sorts through all the emotions swirling inside her. “Are you hungry? I could fix you something if you want.”

Lena shakes her head. After a few deep breaths, she straightens, Kara moving with the movements as long as Lena keeps ahold of her. “No, I’ve already put you out enough.”

“That is absolute nonsense.” Lena rears back, tilts to look up at Kara with an arched brow, painted lips no longer tugging downwards. “I mean it. You never put me out.” Lena rolls her eyes, fondly, and Kara doesn’t hesitate to drop a kiss on Lena’s forehead. She ignores the way Lena’s heart stutters in her chest, ignores the way her own belly dips at the knowledge.

Lena swallows hard, pats Kara’s wrist as she rolls her shoulders and Kara takes it for the sign that it is. With one last squeeze to Lena’s hand, Kara steps back. “You have things you need to finish,” Lena says, motions to Kara’s neglected bread. “Family that’ll be over soon, right?”

Kara shakes her head. “I’ve still got two hours before they show up.” Kara finishes off her braiding with a practiced ease. “Besides, you’re not leaving if you don’t want to.” She lays a clean dish rag over her loaves and puts the tray on top of her stove, shaking her head again as Lena tsks behind her. “Lena, I’m not letting you go home or,” Kara turns and gives Lena a look over the rim of her glasses, “back to work like I know you’re actually planning on doing, to just wallow in your feelings.” Next, Kara grabs a sponge to wipe up the flour that saturates her island. “We will ignore your feelings properly, surrounded by people and food,” she finishes cheekily and she relishes in the sound of Lena’s laughter.

“You know me so well,” Lena says, voice thick with a sweetness Kara is surprised she can manage despite the letter from Lex. “You’re sure I wouldn’t be imposing?”

Kara waves her hand. “Nope. Eliza and Alex will be delighted you’re here,” Kara assures her as she unties her apron and tosses it over the lip of her sink.

“Despite the fact I’m not at all Jewish?”

“Well, you’re celebrating with the most lax Jewish people in National City,” Kara says, hands coming to rest on her hips. “Bad Christmas movies until they arrive?”

The smile Lena gives Kara is wonderfully brilliant and the nod of her head sure as she picks herself up from the stool.

—

Lena sits at the foot of her little leaning tree, box of tree decorations on one side of her, some take out and wine on the other. The lights already wrap around the tree, a mixture of colored and white ones because she couldn’t decide which she wanted more, and she’s shuffling through the few ornaments she found stowed away in the hall closet. She’d bought some new ornaments too, when she picked up the lights, and she likes them well enough. A set of deep red teardrops and some silver balls decorated with golden swirls. Looking at what she has, Lena realizes she probably could have picked up more but this will have to do. It’s already Christmas Eve and there’s no way Lena is braving the wind or the last minute shoppers for some ornaments.

She takes a bite of her pasta, washes it down with some wine, and then gets on to her knees. She places the ornaments as far as she can reach, spreading them out so that they don’t look cluttered, though she does favor the side of the tree that isn’t leaning. When she realizes she must get up to keep decorating, she takes her wine with her.

Lena begins pulling from her box of keepsakes, gently unwrapping the ornaments she’s pulled to the top from their tissue paper. There’s a few stereotypical ones from her time in boarding schools- an ornament detailing some of the things Connecticut’s known for, the outline of the state hanging in the middle, an ornament from the Tower of London, one of a koala that her roommate in year 10 brought her back when she went to visit her family for the holidays. Then there’s a few that her father brought her back from trips- two wooden, hand painted bells from Russia (there had been three but Lena’s not sure where the other has gone), a little blue and white porcelain house with Amsterdam written along the rooftop, three embroidered fabric elephants from India, and a blown glass star from Iceland.

She laughs through the sharp pang in her chest when she pulls out the tiny microscope ornament Jack had given her the last Christmas they spent together. Lena puts it near the top of her tree, wanting it to be one of the first things she catches sight of tomorrow morning.

Amid the wrinkled tissue paper is one last ornament, a truly ugly Santa painted on to an oyster shell. The shell itself wasn’t the best shape and it resulted in Santa looking like a melted mess. It had been one of Lex’s, one he’d picked up on a trip to Cuba sometime in high school. Lillian hated it, hated how it clashed with the formal ornaments and elegant decorations on the family tree but she’d bit her tongue for the sake of her favorite son. Every year he would hang it up, smirk etched on to his face and a laugh in his throat as Lillian groaned at the sight of it. When Lillian was out of earshot, Lex would mimic her flawlessly until Lena’s stomach hurt from laughter.

When Lex broke, Lena had gone into the attic and fished it out to take with her.

Lena takes a deep breath and then finishes off her wine before she hangs it on a branch over a bald spot. She takes a step back and observes her tree fondly, feeling sated in a way she hasn't felt since she received Lex’s card. She’d come close, the night before at Kara’s Christmas party, but the completeness of her own tree fills the parts of her that remained hollow feeling.

She straightens at the memory of the party.

Putting the lid back on her box and setting her take out on top, Lena finds her way to her purse by the door. It sits practically on top. She worried the entire ride home last night that she’d break it if it went further into her bag. An ornament that Kara had given her with a smile and a laugh, a soft murmur that she saw it and instantly thought of Lena. It’s a heavy thing, this black and white pitbull hanging from a shiny red ribbon, but it makes her smile grow as she remembers Kara telling her that pitbulls were so sweet, so loving, but people were unnecessarily scared of them, judging before they got to know them.

It goes next to the one Jack gave her and it weighs the branch down comically. She laughs just as her doorbell rings and it’s that warm feeling she takes with her as she goes to open the door.

She suspected it would be Kara on the other side but she’s utterly stricken at the sight of Alex, Winn, Jess, and Eve flanking her, all of them wearing Santa hats and smelling of boozy eggnog. Kara, the only sober one she suspects, counts to three and then all of them burst into a surprisingly on key version of ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas.’ Both Winn and Eve sing with a gusto that is almost frightening, though the way they lean into eachother as they demand figgy pudding is enough to make laughter bubble up in Lena’s throat.

She brings a hand up to shield her mouth, tries to hide the smile that’s now taking up her face. Alex is the first one to go off key and her brow immediately pulls together, upset at her inability to keep the tune. Alex touches her throat, probably tries to clear it but Lena can’t hear over the singing, and spends the rest of the song with a scowl on her face. Jess has already stopped singing and is instead laughing at her own hiccups, hand on Kara’s shoulder to steady herself.

They all reach the crescendo, their arms raising dramatically, and it really is a sight to see. All these people she’s come to care for, drunk as skunks, serenading her on Christmas Eve. They finish with a roarius laugh but Kara never takes her eyes off Lena, cheeks faintly pink, and it is Kara who courtesies as her fellow carolers fall over one another.

Lena claps as hard and loud as she can, lets loose the laugh she’d been trying to keep down. “Wow,” she breathes out.

“Would you like an encore,” Winn asks quickly and Kara cringes softly.

“You have to save your voice for the other houses,” Kara reminds him and it pacifies their friend perfectly.

“So,” Lena drawls, leaning into her doorframe, “who decided it was a good idea to go caroling drunk?”

“I am _not_ drunk,” Eve says with a serious expression Lena’s not sure she’s ever seen on her before.

“Alcohol keeps you warm,” Alex chimes in, still trying to clear her throat.

“And the last house we went to, the little old lady gave us _way_ too much spiked eggnog,” Kara stage whispers and another laugh bubbles out of Lena. “James’ is our last stop.”

Lena’s never had carolers at her door before, let alone ones she knows, and she stands up again as she tries to think of proper protocol. She thinks to invite them in but Winn and Jess are discussing the next song on their list, walking towards the elevator where Alex is sulking. “Off to the next house then?”

Kara looks behind her, sees the way everyone is already ready to head out, and gives Lena an apologetic look. “I should make sure they get to James’ safely. But I have another gift for you.” Kara scratches under her Santa hat and when she leaves it off center, Lena reaches up and adjusts it. She wants to make sure Kara looks her best, even though it’s hard for her not to. “Can I come back later?”

“Of course,” Lena says as the elevator’s ding sounds in the hall.

Lena thinks it might be the wine in her system that makes her think Kara lingers a little longer than normal at her door.

—

It’s obvious Lena had made herself a little nest on the couch. There’s a mountain of pillows and the two throw blankets Lena keeps in the living room are pushed back just enough so that Lena could get up. Kara hums fondly. “You could’ve told me to come by tomorrow,” she says and Lena rolls her eyes as she sinks back into the couch.

“Nonsense. I was just comfy,” Lena says easily. She pats the end of the couch, legs crossed under her, and Kara sinks down, two packages on her lap.

There’s a box and a small bag and when Kara notices Lena looking curiously, she moves the box behind her. “That’s for tomorrow. This,” she says, holding out the bag, “You can open now.”

Lena takes it with a shy smile, weighs the bag carefully in her hand. Kara holds her hands in her lap tight, tries not to wring them nervously. She’d come up with this idea first, but when she saw the pitbull ornament she knew she had to get it for Lena. Which makes this present a little redundant but…

Kara looks to Lena’s unique tree when she starts pulling out the tissue paper. It’s nice to get a look at it, see all of Lena’s personality shine through her decorating. She takes her time looking at all the ornaments she can see from this spot. She doesn’t dare to look at Lena until she hears a soft gasp. Kara carefully looks at Lena over the rim of her glasses but she relaxes as soon as she sees Lena’s face.

Her eyes are impossibly soft, the green glittering in the light with tears as she stares in wonder at the ornament hanging from her fingers.

Kara had gone with blue for the inside of Lena’s ball, a glittered silver making up an outline of National City’s skyline on one side. It’d taken Kara ages to get it right, had gone through nearly five balls before she got it right. On the opposite side she’d painted Lena’s name in curvy script, little snowflakes dusted around it. She’d added the year too, at the bottom, so that it didn’t take away from either side.

It’s not the first time she’s made ornaments for someone but it’s the first time she’d been truly nervous about the reaction. Not that she thought Lena would hate it, or show that she would hate it, but Kara knows that there’s something building here, can feel it in her skin as sure as she feels the sun strengthen her. It’s easy enough to give personal gifts to someone you love, but it’s another to give to someone you’re in love with.

Kara swallows hard at her own revelation, ducks her head until Lena whispers out her name. Lena’s already rising, half way to Kara by the time she looks up, ornament still held delicately in her hand. Lena wraps her arms right around Kara’s neck and Kara can feel the ornament rest against her back. “It’s so gorgeous,” Lena murmurs as Kara’s own arms hold tight at Lena’s waist. “You made it didn’t you?”

“How can you tell?”

Lena pulls back, a smile towing the line of smirk on her lips. “That’s your writing isn’t it? Just a little more ornate.” Kara blushes and Lena dives back in, hugging her even tighter. “Thank you,” Lena says, voice thick with emotion, with _affection_.

“You are very welcome,” Kara says into Lena’s hair, one hand rubbing her back until Lena pulls back once more. Lena bites her bottom lip and shakes her head briefly before settling herself back down, their knees brushing each other's. Lena’s much closer than she was before, keeps looking at Kara like she _wants_ and it takes Kara only a second- a second in which she hears the too early chimes of the cathedral bell downtown- before she says, “Lena, can I-“

“Yes,” Lena says quickly, the clock above her fireplace doling out the first of 12 rings. Her hands scramble back around Kara’s neck, nearly falling into Kara’s lap. Kara stays steady though, takes Lena’s clumsy weight as she tilts her chin to catch Lena’s lips, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s hips. The first brush of their mouths is hesitant for only a moment, makes Kara’s belly feel like it does when she’s coming in for a landing. Lena tries to hold back a moan but Kara feels it anyway and god, Kara feels like she’s on fire. Lena’s tongue brushes against her bottom lip, light and exploring, like she’s trying to figure out what Kara will like. Which is silly because Kara thinks she’ll like literally anything Lena will do.

When they part, Kara is uncharacteristically breathless and it makes the both of them chuckle despite their labored breaths. “We’ve been leading up to that right,” she asks and Lena laughs a little harder when she nods. Kara ventures a look at the clock, verifies that it wasn’t just the rush of kissing Lena that made her hear bells and that it is in fact past midnight. She clears her throat, thinks to take her hands off Lena’s waist but decides against it when Lena seems to be pushing into her touch. “Merry Christmas, Lena.”

Lena lets out a breathy sigh. “Merry Christmas, Kara.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr @idontneedtobeforgiven


End file.
